


The Studio: A Perspective

by amythetoon



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Gen, Horror, POV Second Person, Surreal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28834002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amythetoon/pseuds/amythetoon
Summary: Dumb stuff from the perspective of characters from Batim. My first time writing. VERY experimental.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	1. The Dark Puddles: Rebirth

...

It hurts, and you want it to stop.

That’s the first thing you know.   
Before this, you knew nothing. You don’t remember anything before this.  
This is all there is, right?

For as long as you can remember, this is existence:  
Your mind swimming, time never passing, the sound of liquid, and voices that seem familiar.

You realize now that you are one of those voices.  
You don’t know how, but you’re screaming, you have been all this time.  
Sometimes you say things. You don’t understand what they mean, but you say things that you feel like you’ve heard before.

Sometimes you get flashes, of thoughts, and memories, that vanish in an instant.  
You sometimes get memories of colors, though you’ve never seen anything.  
You sometimes get memories of scent, though you’ve never smelled anything.  
You sometimes get memories of touch, though you’ve never touched anything.

You realize something odd. You don’t have a body.  
What is that? Why is that odd?   
Something is wrong.

Despite not having a body, you speak.  
Despite not having a body, you’re in agony.  
Despite your mind being in pieces, you can tell that it’s wrong.

You’re trying to get out.  
Somehow, something starts to change.  
It hurts, but you have to do something.  
You climb and reach, for something, anything.

Eventually, you can feel something.  
Your body isn’t solid. You don’t know how you can tell, but this isn’t how it’s supposed to feel. It isn’t supposed to be like this.

You keep on trying, and eventually, you see something.  
Eventually, you can move.  
Eventually, you can think.

Eventually, you start to remember.  
You start to remember words.  
You start to remember places.  
You start to remember that this isn’t all there is.  
You start to remember that there was something before this.

And thus, you are reborn.


	2. Henry Stein: Loop

How long has it been? You stopped counting on the first few hundred.

If you could, you’d spend all of your time sleeping. But something always comes to kill you eventually, and “dying” still hurts, no matter how many times you go through it.

You’ve tried everything. Everything you could possibly say, everything you could possibly do, you’ve done it all. You know the script by heart, you have the voices of the “characters” engrained in your mind, going through this story is second nature by now, you can even traverse these winding halls better than you could your own home.

Though by now you can barely remember your own home anyway.  
You can’t remember your wife’s voice.  
You can’t remember her face.  
You can’t remember your own face.  
The longer you stay in this place, the more you forget.  
And your memories of the outside world become distant and faded.  
At this point, you can’t even tell if those memories were real at all.

You know that this is a fake world, a “story world”. And the outside world, the one in your memories, is the real world. But it’s been so long, that it starts to feel like the other way round.  
Well, neither of them feel real anyway.  
But you suppose that this story is your world now.

And in this repeating world, where consequences don’t exist, and where escape is impossible, there is still one thing that can change.

The longer you stay here, as well as losing memories, you also lose emotion.  
In scenes where you once felt sorrow, you now feel barely anything.  
Things that once made you feel like you were dying, now barely sting.  
You know that eventually, you will have forgotten everything outside of this story.  
And maybe, you will eventually feel nothing.

You can’t tell if that frightens or comforts you.  
You can’t tell if that would be better or worse


End file.
